Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's Daughter
by Nuclear Cookie
Summary: My interpretation of the seventh book. T for suggestive but not graphic content.
1. Prologue

**HARRY POTTER AND THE DARK LORD'S DAUGHTER**

Disclaimer: I own none of Harry Potter. I wish I did, but I don't. So don't sue me.

**Notes: **Helle is pronounced: Hell-uh, with emphasis on the first syllable. This story in in part inspired by a thing I wrote with friends of mine, but this is significantly different. Also this could be a bit slow of a start, but hang on. It gets better:P. And my spacing keeps vanishing, I don't know why.

**Prologue**

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

"I see Death," Lord Voldemort announced.

He stared rather disgustedly at the fools watching. They expected to share his glory, to gain power, and whatnot.

But they paid obeisance to their Lord, and he was content.

Though that was debatable.

LIke this, for instance.

That silly little girl Bellatrix had gotten herself caught. Again. For the fifth time to date. She had escaped, true, but that was no reason for her to escape his punishment.

Now, fighting back tears of the Cruciatus Curse, she, like all his other Death Eaters, stared.

He stalked around, enjoying the fearful gasps breath as his walk slowed near Pettigrew.

"The death could well be yours," he told Pettigrew, and was pleased to see a shiver creep across the spy's spine.

Spy's spine. He liked the sound of that.

He continued stalking, he was rather good at it, and paused by Goyle. Not a lot of brain, certainly, but excellent personality for terrifying people. And he had a large moustache.

Lord Voldemort continued frightening his Death Eaters, his mind not on what he was doing, but rather what he would look like with a moustache.

It would be large, he decided finally. And silver. To show age and support of Slytherin.

Having exhausted the subject of moustaches, the Dark Lord scowled, a terrifying sight.

"I want blood," he stated coldly. "The blood of a traitor."

There was dead silence.

He put his mind back on track of what he was doing. He knew, of course, that there was a traitor in his ranks. That was why he'd called this gathering of all his followers, not just his own Death Eaters. To see who the traitor was.

They couldn't hide for long.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Danielle Lockhart stood rooted to the spot in fear. There was nothing to be done. You-Know-Who would find her.

She watched as he stalked around the circle, eyes glistening with intensity, focused on the task.

He stopped, and pointed straight at her.

She knew it was too late, and tried to Disapparate, but couldn't, and a jet of green light hit her-

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Well, that went rather well, he thought, pleased.

He stared at the gathering of people and noticed scared shifting.

"You are worthless," he said, "not to have found that traitor. Now, go! Except the Death Eaters, of course."

They left, the anti-Apparation wards down now.

After everyone else was gone, Bellatrix got to her feet, and took her place in the circle.

Then he outlined his plan.

This time his mind was fully on what he was saying.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

She watched the Dark Lord look at her, his red eyes cold. She could see Nagini floating noiselessly at his feet. She was as cold as his heart.

"Lily," he said, tasting the feel of the word on his tongue. "So nice to have you here tonight."

She shifted against the ropes that bound her. "Unfortunate that I cannot return the pleasure."

You-Know-Who shrugged, a vaguely disturbing gesture. "You cannot understand what I have to say."

She did not spit, as if she were scared out of her wits by this strange skeleton. Instead, she nonverbally began calling inside her head. Accio wand, accio wand... 

It wasn't working. And he was getting closer.

"Lily," he said again. He was closer now, barely a foot away. "Do you know why you are here?"

She saw the Death Eaters standing stock still. She could see Sirius tied, forced to kneel at Nott's feet.

But they hadn't got James yet.

You-Know-Who reached out and touched her cheek. She instinctively flinched.

He backed away, laughing, a high cold cruel laugh.

"You are afraid," he said accusingly. "You think I will kill you. You are afraid of me. You flinch at my name."

She said nothing.

"Voldemort," he said, watching her. "Voldemort. Voldemort. VOLDEMORT!"

She held still until the last time, then cried out.

He laughed again, his ugly face twisting into a bestial contortion of horror.

She saw Sirius shaking at the far end of the circle.

She saw Nott kick him, his boot going into Sirius's face, breaking his nose in a shower of blood.

You-Know-Who stepped close to her again, and ran a long finger speculatively down her side. She barely concealed a high-pitched cry that erupted when he hooked his other finger around her jawbone and kissed it.

She lost her cool and yelled: "Let go of me, you twisted slithering great bloody-!"

He silenced her with a casual brush of his tongue across her lips. She choked in disgust, feeling as if a snake was wrapping itself about her, killing her.

"Lily, Lily, Lily.." he said, voice sad. "Why have you not spoken yet?"

She snarled. "I will never tell you anything about the Order!"

You-Know-Who waved a hand at Nott. "Kill Black," he ordered.

"Noo!"

He spun back to look at her. "No? You would prefer to...what, exactly?"

"I know what you want," she whispered, voice shaking. "I'll give it to you."

She saw his eyes brighten, saw Sirius look horror-struck, saw the Death Eaters look sick.

He, however, grinned a lipless grin. "Soo...you, a Mudblood would dare give that to me?"

"I would," she said.

He seizes her head in both of his long-fingered hands and tilted it toward his face. She shivered, and closed her eyes.

The next thing she felt was his lips on hers, his snakelike nostril exhaling into her face, his tongue caressing the corners of her lips. She was shaking uncontrollably.

He tucked his hands into her hair, and pressed her tight against his chest. She felt sick, and could see nothing except blackness.

It's for Sirius, she thought. Think of Sirius. I don't want to be responsible for his death.

She felt herself falling into despairing oblivion, unaware of Sirius's cries of "No, Lily!" the Death Eater's disgusted snarls, a bang as of Apparition, unaware of everything.

Except You-Know-Who's hands on her body.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

She awoke later, wrapped in silken satin sheets. She was by herself on a bloodstained bed. She pressed her face against a red pillow and inhaled the scent of fear.

She sat up, and wished she were dead. She had not just been in bed with You-Know-Who. She had not, she told herself, she had not.

But she knew that she had.

"Oh, James..."

Unaware of the tears falling onto the hot sweated bedsheets, there was fear and desperation in that place where she knew she was.

Then she felt a strong hand closing around her wrist. She look up and saw You-Know-Who.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice hissing with politeness.

"I hate you," she said, voice shaking.

He shrugged. "I do not care."

He pointed a wand at her belly. Nothing happened, except that he looked pleased.

"Ah, good," he said. "That is that."

"Kill me."

He stared. "Why?"

She lunged forward and seized his wand.

"Avada-!"

He kicked her in the shin, and she dropped the wand. He coolly collected it.

She glared, furious.

Then she Disapparated, hoping that he would be so arrogant as to forget to put wards back up.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

She Disapparated straight back into the field that had held her the night before.

"Oh, no," she said to herself. "So that's why he didn't put the wards back up."

The she heard Sirius call her, and run up to her.

"How?" she whispered, shocked, but happy.

He tugged her off the bed. "Lily, the Order fought off Vol-"

"Don't!"

He looked at her with surprise, but refrained. "All right. Anyway, You-Know-Who's Death Eater's fled. Let's go, now, okay?"

She nodded and wept as he Apparated her away.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

She saw James come running up out of nowhere to greet her.

"Lily! Oh, love, I thought you were dead, my Lily, my love..." he said in a strangled voice, sweeping her into his arms, and kissing her as if the world would never end.

She cried as he kissed her, still scared, still shaken from last night's ordeal. She had not been afraid of the Dark Lord before, she had escaped two times before, and he had not killed her yet.

But she could feel his hands gliding across her...

James rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her uncontrollable weeping.

"What happened to her?" he asked of Sirius. "What did he do to her? She's faced You-Know-Who before and he didn't scare her like this!"

"He raped her, this time. It was either that or I died. He forced her," said Sirius, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "I would think that would scare anyone!"

She nodded, burying her face into James's shoulder.

"Oh, my sweet Lily," he whispered in her ear. "I'll kill-"

"No," she said, standing up on wavering feet. "Don't. James, you know the prophecy. You'll only die if you try. And I can't lose you..." Tears flooded her eyes again. "Don't leave me!"

James kissed her nose. "I won't, I swear."

He turned to Sirius. "Do a pregnancy check on her. I want to be sure he hasn't, he didn't, well..."

Sirius shook his head. "I can't. James, you know that if she is pregnant, no one will be able to tell whether you or Vol- You-Know-Who was the father."

James had an ugly look on his face. "Kill the baby anyway. I won't take any chances."

"No," she said. "I won't let you kill it. If it is yours, I want it. I want to have... I want... in case you, you..." but she couldn't bring herself to say the word 'die'.

James sighed. "Lily, if the baby is his..."

"No one will know." she said softly. "I won't know. We can raise the child up to be good and innocent and nothing at all like the Dark Lord."

James nodded. "All right. But Padfoot, do the spell anyway."

Sirius too out his wand, and pointed it at her belly. Twin lights, one pink, one blue arose.

"Twins!" she whispered, shocked. "A boy and a girl."

James nodded, his hazel eyes bright.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

He paced around again, aggravated. That fool Lily Potter had escaped again for the third time. So had James Potter.

And according to all rumors, the girl was pregnant.

This was not good.

He had heard the prophecy, or at least part of it. Obviously, the Longbottoms had been indicated at first, for Frank and Alice had each escaped three times. But now both the Potters had, too.

And both Lily and Alice were due to give birth in July.

And if both children were male, then this posed an interesting problem.

Who should he kill?

The prophecy stated that one of the children, and only one, had any chance of killing the greatest wizard of all time.

Me, of course, he thought conceitedly.

But which child?

He decided to wait and see. One of the children could be a girl, after all. Or one of the mother could have a miscarriage, or an early or late birth.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Lily stared down at the little children in the crib.

"Helle and Harry," she said softly.

She looked at Sirius, at Remus, at Peter, at James.

At her own dear friend Celianne.

At Dumbledore.

"Thank you," she said again.

Sirius laughed. "For what?"

"I don't know," she retorted. "For just, being here."

Then Dumbledore spoke.

"As all you know," he began. "The girl child has to be hidden away. Voldemort could try to kill Harry at any time now, as he now knows that one child was born in July, of parents that have escaped three times. And Lily and James can protect themselves, and if Harry is indeed the child of the prophecy, then hiding will do no good. But little Helle should be cared for."

"No," Lily said, her voice cold as ice. "I won't let you take her away."

"It's for her own good," said Peter softly.

Celianne nodded, looking at Sirius who sighed.

Lily bit her lip. "I don't want to lose her."

Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. "Look at her, Lily. Look at Harry. Look at the difference."

Lily looked. At it was all too obvious. Whereas Harry had bright wide green eyes, Helle had a dark reddish color. Harry hadn't got his hair yet, and Helle had a jet-black frizz. Her skin was too pale for a healthy baby, and her face was delicate and beautiful. Harry had a baby's chubby face and a bright happy grin. Helle had a cold stare, and an icy look about her.

Lily knew what Dumbledore was trying to say.

"She isn't You-Know-Who's child," Lily protested. "She can't be!"

James shook his head. "She is, Lily. Look at her. You know what he did to you that night so long ago. You can't deny that Helle is not my child."

Lily fought back tears. "She's still my baby, and I won't let you take her away-"

Celianne put a hand on her shoulder. "Lily, listen to reason! It's safer for her this way. You-Know-Who won't kill her."

Lily took a deep breath and whispered: "All right."

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

He stared at the spy. "What have you to say?"

Pettigrew's eyes were vivid in the darkness, never had the Dark Lord seen such excitement.

"My Lord! Lily Potter has given birth to twins. A boy called Harry, and a girl called Helle. And my lord, the girl looks just like Your Lordship! She is undoubtedly yours. But they are going to hide her, where I do not know..."

"Yessss..." he hissed. "Finally a child. I have wondered if my body would not allow me to create one..."

He took a wand, and pointed it at Pettigrew. "Obliviate!"

Thus all traces of that information were gone of the spy's mind.

The prophecy would be fulfilled. He would kill the twin of the girl, not the pureblood son of those Aurors. Why? Because he wanted to see his daughter. And of course, he would kill the Longbottom after he'd killed the Potter boy.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

He had difficulties, however. The Potters kept switching hiding places and it was a year before Pettigrew was able to get the information required.

Then Lord Voldemort set out to kill the Potters.

He opened the door, walked inside. He could hear voices.

"Lily! Take Harry and run!"

He grinned, and went up the stairs. He saw James Potter rush down, wand extended-

"Three times lucky, they say," he hissed. "But the fourth? AVADA KEDAVRA!"

One Potter down, one to go. For he had no intention of killing Lily. She had birthed his daughter, and so he would spare her. Unless she tried to protect Harry, of course.

He continued up the stairs

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Lily heard James die, and controlled a flood of tears. She tucked Helle under a blanket in the hopes that no one would find her.

Oh, why didn't I let Dumbledore hide her? Why? she thought, frantically.

She held Harry tight, and waited, scared. She couldn't run now, not with Helle so close...

Then she saw the Dark Lord.

"No!" she said, or something vaguely like that. She was too confused and scared to remember right. "Don't!"

"Stand aside, silly girl, stand aside..."

"No! Take me, kill me instead- not Harry! Not my Harry!"

'Foolish woman, do you not know you will die? Let me kill the child."

"Noo! Kill me, not my Harry, I won't let you! Take me instead!"

"As you wish..."

The last thing she saw was a rush of green light and she heard the sound of cold high cruel laughter...

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Two days later.

You-Know-Who had fallen. The Death Eaters were gone. Sirius Black had been arrested for the killing of Peter Pettigrew. Little Harry Potter was in the care of the Dursley's.

Little Helle Potter was wrapped in a cloak, in a Death Eater's arms.

"So," said Bellatrix Lestrange. "So. This is the girl twin of that Potter boy?"

Severus Snape nodded. "Yes. I know not what key she holds in the defeat of the Dark Lord. All I know is that he prized her life enough to erase all traces of her life before setting out to kill the Potters.

Bellatrix nodded. "So that is why no one knows of her existence. Except of course that old fool Dumbledore?"

Snape gave a jerk of his head. "Yes. And Black, Pettigrew, and Lupin. And that dead girl-Hallifex her last name was, I think. The Potters hid this baby well, warned by that Muggle-lover Dumbledore beforehand."

Bellatrix scowled. "And the Potters did not hide Harry, why exactly?"

"I do not know. Only the Dark Lord and Dumbledore knew."

The two Death Eaters stared at the little girl. Helle was asleep, her fringe of dark hair straight about her head, her eyes closed and peaceful.

"What did the Dark Lord want with her?" wondered Bellatrix. "And what are we to do with her? I cannot keep her. Rodolphus, Barty and I have a lead on how to find the Dark Lord and I could be killed soon."

"And I," said Snape, frowning, "cannot keep her. Not only would it be strange for me to suddenly appear with a child, I have a duty as a spy, as you well know."

"Perhaps," Bellatrix said acidly.

Helle woke up, and yelled an infant cry of hunger. Bellatrix cast a Silencing spell on her, and she fell silent.

"I have an idea," said Snape thoughtfully. "Of where we can hide her 'till the Dark Lord returns..."

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Mrs.. Alene Drogden opened the front door of her house.

"Aaagh!" Tripping, she glanced down and her an infant cry.

On her door step there was a little girl, her hair straight and long for a child of her age, her eyes dark and red, her skin pale, her black hair wet. Her delicate face twisted as she wailed in the indignity of being stepped on.

"Greg!" called Alene. "Greg! There is a baby on our doorstep."

Her husband walked out. "Allie? What baby?"

Alene scooped up the girl into a hug. "My little baby," she crooned. "Greg, let's adopt her!"

And so they did, going to the adoption registry at once.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Eventually, as the girl they called Christina grew older, they noticed strange things about her. If she got angry, things would happen. She also had an affinity for snakes. They would crawl out of sewers and gardens to wrap around her and hiss at her. Chris was able to hiss back. Alene thought she was just playing, but the snakes uncannily obeyed her if Alene asked her to stop playing with the snakes.

And once, a dog bit Chris on the leg when she was just six. She did not cry, but contorted her face, and the dog dropped dead of a heart attack.

Greg noticed little about the girl they had adopted. He was occupied with his job, and though he attended all of Chris's school functions, and was a good dad, he never took an interest in her.

Alene tried to spoil her with loving attention, but Chris obstinately refused to accept it. She kept to herself and did not enjoy Alene's love. She did what she wanted, and refused to do anything else.

As she turned into a teenager, it was apparent that she was unusual. Her looks were incredible. As a baby she had always been strange, but as she passed her thirteenth birthday she was beautiful. There was no other word for it.

She was short, with black hair that hung long and straight to her waist. It contrasted with her white skin and expressive eyebrows. Her dark eyes were no longer the reddish color they had been, but had slowly and inexplicably turned a dull blood color, less red than dried scab color. Her face was delicate, as was her thin body. She had long fingers and a cold air about her.

As strange as she looked, she was an outgoing personality. She took offense at nothing, and rebelled against authority. She had few friends, but she attracted attention. A gathering of supporters followed her.

At her sixteenth birthday she started work at a waitress in a 60's type diner. The diner had incredibly good business ever since she worked there.

Chris stayed out on walks, and did nothing but build a bad relationship with her parents.

As she turned seventeen, she began to get less aloof. She went out with several boys, and treated her parents better than she had in years.

And one night, she found her parents dead.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

As she stood, staring at the corpses of the only two people she had ever known who loved her, she heard a sound.

Wheeling around, she saw a man in a cloak standing there. He had pale beady eyes, and a round sweaty face. his eyes darting nervously at her, he squeaked:

"Helle?"

He twitched, looking at her.

"Who?" Chris snarled angrily. "How dare you speak to me? You killed my parents, you filthy little bastard."

Her eyes were dilated in anger, her face whiter than usual.

"My Lady!" cried the man. "I never ever would do anything to upset you!"

"The hell not!" yelled Chris. She clenched a fist in the air.

To her horror, as soon as her fist clenched, the man began writhing in pain. He was clutching his throat, and gasping for air.

Chris unfisted her hand, and he was able to breathe.

She looked thoughtfully at her hand, and squeezed it, slowly. She watched as the man's throat contracted, his eyes dilated, his tongue lolled...

Then he died.

She continued squeezing her fist until his head rolled off of his body.

Then she heard soft laughter.

She turned, and saw a tall gaunt..snake man...standing there. His eyes were a bright red, his nostrils slitted. He inspired fear in her.

"So," he said. "You have killed Wormtail."

Not understanding, Chris clenched her fist, hard.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, no you don't," said the snake-man. "Nothing will hurt me. I am not a feeble wizard like poor Pettigrew there."

Chris was scared, now. Her anger had faded, and she stared in horror at the dead body. "I killed a guy, I killed a guy..." she whispered.

"Oh, yes. Of course. I would expect nothing less of you, daughter."

Losing her temper again, she shouted: "I am not your daughter!"

"Oh yes you are." he said coolly. "You just have not realized it yet."

He walked toward her, and she found her feet were rooted to the spot, unable to escape. It was the worst nightmare that she'd ever had...

Then his bony hand clenched her shoulder and she was no longer in her own kitchen.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Like? Dislike? Review, please, without flames.


	2. Chapter 1: Beginnings

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter. JKR does.

**Chapter 1: Beginnings**

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Voldemort let go of the girl's shoulder as he Apparated into a graveyard. Not just any graveyard, but the graveyard where so much of his history had happened.

He watched as she staggered away, and shivered. She wasn't wearing robes, of course, just those ridiculous Muggle clothes.

Her performance in her house had been exemplary. She had no control, of course, for her magic was that of an untrained underage witch. She had let her fear and anger take control of her.

Now, she turned to look around. Her eyes were wide, with fear or eagerness he couldn't tell.

He gave a mental call inside his head, the call that would activate the Dark Mark engraved on his Death Eater's arms.

And then they appeared.

The girl gave a yell of fright. She no longer looked as if she had an aura that said: 'I am powerful, obey me!'. She just looked like a teenager scared out of her wits.

He felt no pity. He expected better.

"My friends," he hissed at the Death Eaters gathered round. "I have brought you here today to greet the newest one of our ranks."

They turned to stare at the girl. She backed away against a gravestone, arms wrapped tight around her.

"Helle," he said to her.

"That's not my name."

Her answer was little more than a defiant whisper.

Lord Voldemort nodded thoughtfully, and turned back to his Death Eaters.

"She does not, of course know who she is, or even of the world of magic. To hide her in the Muggle World was perhaps not the best of ideas, but I am sure Snape and Bella would have thought better if they had had more time..."

No one said anything. He wondered if they had detected his sarcastic tone at the end. He doubted it. Nobody expected the Dark Lord to be sarcastic. It was too human.

"Magic isn't real," the girl said unexpectedly. "Everyone knows that."

Now he definitely heard a few snickers.

"Oh?" he inquired of her. "Then how would you explain killing poor Wormtail without even touching him?"

There was a sudden silence. The Death Eaters had never liked Wormtail, but they still took the death of one of their ranks hard.

As long as the person was not a traitor, of course.

"I am waiting," he snarled suddenly at the girl. "For your reply."

She said nothing. Probably, he thought, still afraid. He couldn't understand why she was afraid. She hadn't been scared when she was killing Pettigrew, or before he had taken her here.

Ignoring her, he turned back his Death Eaters. "The turning process will take a while, but eventually she will be with us, and will help in the defeat of those Muggle-loving fools on the other side."

He had the impression that if he had been a little less intimidating, there could have been cheering.

"Now go," he ordered.

They Disapparated at once.

"Who are you?" the girl asked.

He turned to look at her. "I? I am Lord Voldemort. Known as the Dark Lord to my followers and You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to other idiots."

Then the biggest shock of all came.

Nagini, his snake, slithered out of nowhere. He hissed a greeting at her, and she hissed back.

Then, to his surprise, the girl started conversing with Nagini as well. The conversation went a little like this:

:Hallo, aren't you a pretty snake:

:I? I am the greatest snake of all. And who are you? The Dark One's daughter:

:How would I know? I don't think so, though.:

:You probably are. You can talk to me.:

:I like talking to snakes.:

:I dislike conversing with people.:

:Am I offending you:

:No, of course not. You are not people.:

:I thought I was human.:

:Of course you are. But you are different than anyone else I have ever conversed with.:

:How:

:You are female. I know of no other Parselmouths that are female. It is very enjoyable, speaking with one of the human race who is actually intelligent.:

:What's a Parselmouth:

:A Parselmouth is a human who can talk to snakes.:

At this point, Voldemort decided to interrupt.

:Thank you, Nagini, but that will be enough. My daughter needs to be shown where the place where she will now be staying.:

:Of course. And girl- do not fear the Dark One. He is quite nice, underneath his layers of skin.:

With that, she slithered off into the darkness.

"Biased little serpent," said Voldemort, his voice disgusted.

The girl stifled a laugh.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Harry Potter woke up. He wiped sweat off his forehead with the bedsheet, frowning.

He had had another dream. It had been a long time, for he knew Voldemort had sealed his mind against Harry's entering it. But he'd had another one.

He pressed his knuckles against his face. If only he could remember! There had been a girl, and a snake, and he had been talking to someone...

Giving up, Harry rolled out of bed and got dressed. Pulling a sweater over his head, he went downstairs, to the Burrow's kitchen.

"Harry!" exclaimed someone. "You're up!"

He nodded. "What time is it?"

"Eleven," said one of his friends, Hermione. "You slept in."

"I guess so," he said uncomfortably, and sat down in a chair.

He had felt distanced and awkward ever since leaving Hogwarts. His first few weeks at the Dursley's had been uneventful. He had stayed there longer than he had planned to, past his seventeenth birthday. He had not wanted to leave. He hated the Dursley's, but their house was still a reminder of his childhood, unhappy that it was, but better than the here and now.

But he had eventually gone to stay with the Weasleys. Fleur and Bill's wedding had taken place already, but he had been welcomed.

Now, though, he was itching to leave, itching to go and find the Horcruxes.

Mrs. Weasley pushed a bowl of soup his way. "Eat, Harry dear," she said, and busily bustled off.

Hermione and Ron sat down at the table as well.

"When are we leaving?" Ron asked abruptly.

Harry stared at his spoon. "I dunno. Soon."

"I think," said Hermione. "That today would be good. There's nothing really to wait for, you know."

Harry ate his soup, not listening.

"Harry," Ron began uncertainly. "Listen mate, are you all right? You haven't been talking."

"Yes," Hermione added. "Harry, we ought to go now. It's as good a time as any."

They fell silent, worriedly watching his soup disappear. He finished it, and sat up straight. "Okay. Let's go."

Grinning faintly at their stunned expressions, he went to go get his stuff

When upstairs, he pulled his robes on over the Muggle clothes, and stuck his wand in a pocket. As he was staring at his trunk, wondering how he was going to take that, Hermione appeared.

She was holding a backpack that looked rather strange. It was lopsided, bright orange and had sparks dancing across it.

It didn't have a zipper.

"Here," Hermione said hurriedly, thrusting the backpack his way. "You can put your stuff in there, with ours. Ron and mine. Just touch the sparks."

Harry tugged cautiously at a spark. The spark glowed white, then the backpack split in half, revealing several pockets.

Hermione levitated his trunk and broomstick into the backpack. They shrank, soaring neatly into a pocket.

Then Hermione refolded the backpack and swung it over her shoulders. "Ready?" she asked.

Harry nodded, then rather awkwardly squeezed her shoulder.

"You're a wonder, Hermione," he told her.

She blushed, and they went downstairs.

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Chris curled up on a chair. She was unsure of where exactly she was. The man called Voldemort had not said anything to her except the sentence:

"This is my house, find a place to sleep."

She had gone to the nearest piece of furniture, and had stayed awake the whole night, aware of chills sliding down her spine.

She didn't know where Voldemort had gone, and she didn't really care.

She wanted to go home, to a familiar place. She felt scared and guilty and angry and nervous. Scared for what would happen to her. Guilty because she had killed someone. It terrified her, that she had squeezed her fist and a man had died. Terrified her that at the time, nothing had been in her mind except the desire to kill.

What is happening to me? she wondered, scraping at her skin. Why is this happening?

She badly wanted to wake up, to find that this had all been a nightmare. Then she could go downstairs and laugh with her parents about the snake-man called Voldemort, and they would indeed tell her that she was their child of course, not his.

It was like a bad replay of a Star Wars movie.

The rotted red covering of the chair stank as badly as anything in this house. She wondered if anyone really did live here.

She heard a noise, and stiffened. The creaking of the floorboards filled her with apprehension.

Voldemort strode into the room, robes billowing around.

"Ah, Helle," he said, noticing her. "You are awake."

"That's obvious," she snapped, then bit her tongue.

His eyes narrowed, but nothing happened to her.

"Are you hungry?" he inquired of her.

She nodded, and to her surprise a plate of sandwiches appeared on thin air. A glass of orange liquid appeared next to it.

She began eating, having had nothing to eat since the day before. It was hard to believe that only yesterday she had been going home, going to see her parents again...

Losing her appetite at the thought, she stopped eating.

"The loo," said Voldemort. "Is over there."

Chris got to her feet, blushing, It sounded strange to have such an obviously evil person talking to her about bathrooms.

Nevertheless, she went.

As she walked back into what she had decided was the living room, a sudden reserve of mind came over her.

Perhaps, perhaps if there really was magic, couldn't they cause her parents to be back from the dead?

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood shivering outside a pub, having just been thrown out.

"What next?" Hermione asked despairingly. "We have to find something."

Harry had guided them to Borgin and Burkes, the place where Dumbledore had shown him where Tom Riddle had worked. He had attempted to track where he had gone next, but to no avail.

He supposed that if Dumbledore couldn't, neither could he.

The day was cold and rainy, even though it was August, and even their thick robes let the cold through.

"Well," said Hermione. "If anyone would know what Voldemort- oh don't _jump_, Ron- was doing it would be a Death Eater, right?"

"I doubt it," Ron retorted. "You-Know-Who doesn't trust them."

"It would have to be one of his first followers," Harry answered thoughtfully. "Who were with him at Hogwarts, and were the first to join the Death Eaters afterwards. And if they were loyal enough, Voldemort could have told them a lot more than he usually would have."

"So basically," Hermione said, sighing. "We have to find an old, loyal Death Eater and question him? Or her?"

"How do we know which Death Eater? And we can't just walk up to them and say, 'Hey, tell me all You-Know-Who's secrets!'" Ron pointed out.

"I think I know which Death Eater, though," Harry told them. "Rodolphus Lestrange, I know from the Pensieve that he was with Voldemort at school, and that he was one of the three that tried to find Voldemort by torturing the Longbottoms into insanity. "

"Oh, great," Ron said. "So we go and kidnap Rodolphus Lestrange now, right?"

"Well," Hermione replied desperately. "Unless you have a better idea."

"Yeah! How about we just try to not kill ourselves? Or get ourselves 'tortured into insanity'?"

"Ron," Harry told him. "If we don't find the rest of Voldemort's Horcruxes that'll happen anyway."

"Not to me," Ron said rebelliously, but fell silent after that.

"Okay," Hermione said brightly. "Now let's start planning!"

(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)


End file.
